


Dream A Little Dream of Me

by Comicbooklovergreen



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Babyfic, Based off a friggin Youtube vid, Carol's a mom again, F/F, Pointless fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, fuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 05:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10847298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comicbooklovergreen/pseuds/Comicbooklovergreen
Summary: Carol and Therese have a new baby. Carol is very tired but still manages to sing to her.Loose sequel to 'Breathe.'





	Dream A Little Dream of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this damn thing, which I couldn't get out of my head. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTAlz0k0KQQ
> 
> Sequel to this.
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/8663485

Carol woke up to a loud, persistent crying from down the hall. Her precious miracle daughter, symbol of her new life with Therese, had yet to show any concern for how much sleep her parents got.

Therese rolled over with a groan, the midnight feedings still taking their toll on her. Even half asleep though, Carol knew this wasn’t a hungry cry. Pressing a kiss to Therese’s forehead, Carol sat up, the warm, inviting comforter falling away.

“I’ll get her,” she murmured.

Therese grumbled in that way which indicated exhausted gratitude and Carol smiled as she reached for a robe.

“Okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” she said, tying the robe as she entered the nursery. “Shh, now, what could be so terrible, hmm?”

As destructive as it is to household sleep patterns, part of her still relished every noise the baby made, including the loud, crying ones. It meant she was really here after all those other tears shed trying to bring her into existence, after that close call in the delivery room. The crying meant that it was all real, worth it.

“Shh, shh,” Carol said again, lifting the child with Therese’s dark hair and beautiful green eyes out of her crib. “What’s wrong, little one?”

The baby clung to her, hot, persistent tears staining Carol’s robe. Carol rubbed her back and paced the room with her a few times before heading for the rocking chair in the corner.

“There we go,” she said, settling carefully and setting the rocker in gentle motion. “There we go, sweet girl. Come have a rest with Mommy.”

The baby whimpered, red-faced and miserable. At least Rindy wasn’t here tonight to be woken up, though if she had her way she’d spend every moment with her sister.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Carol said again. “Come on, sweetheart, let your mama go back to sleep. She’ll be scary tomorrow otherwise.”

After a few minutes the worst of it passed, though the baby remained awake and tense in her arms. Carol rocked her and murmured nonsense and began humming without thinking about it. When that seemed to help (or at least not hurt), she continued, voice soft as she sang.

“Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you.’ Birds singing in the sycamore trees, dream a little dream of me.”

If she were more awake Carol could sing the entire song word for word. She was not more awake and was far more interested in watching the baby slowly calm down, watching her reactions. She hummed the parts she couldn’t remember and silently apologized to Ella Fitzgerald and everyone else who’d done the song before and after, and done it much better than she.

“Sweet dreams ‘til sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams whatever they be…”

It occurred to her then how conceited this seemed, picking this particular song. The child saw her all day, wasn’t it rather self-involved to think she’d want to dream of more of the same?

“Oh come on, that one’s easy.”

Carol looked up at the soft, amused voice to find Therese leaning on the doorframe, robe undone.

“You’re just going to leave it there?” she pressed, moving soundlessly into the room.

Carol smiled, looked down at the baby. “My audience is asleep,” she said, almost whispering.

“Not all of them.”

With careful ease, Therese took the baby from Carol, tucking her back into her crib and smoothing the blanket. Carol left the rocker to stand behind her, kiss her shoulder.

“Why didn’t you finish it?” Therese asked, still watching their daughter.

“It seemed…self-important,” Carol said. “Asking your child to dream about you as though they don’t get enough during the day.”

“I think that you’re overthinking this.”

“Probably. I’m very tired.”

Therese hummed. “Well, at least you’re not the scary one when you’re tired.”

Carol froze.

“Do you always slander me to the children or was this a special occasion?”

“Darling…”

“Finish it,” Therese said, “I never hear you sing. And you owe me now.”

Carol chuckled, wrapping her arms around Therese’s waist. “I suppose I do. Will this make us even then?”

Therese shrugged. “We’ll see how scary I feel in the morning.”

Carol laughed, kissed the back of Therese’s neck. “Say nighty-night and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me.”

She pulled Therese closer, crooned the last lines directly into her ear. The verses were out of order, but what did it matter at this point?

“While I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me.”

She’d listened to the song many times during their separation. The words should hurt, remind her of that horrible time. Instead Carol smiled as Therese stifled a giggle and relaxed into her. She wasn’t alone anymore. She never would be again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr. Hit me up with prompts or just stop in to say hi.
> 
> http://cblgblog.tumblr.com/


End file.
